Rising Fall
by Ardonius-Servant-Of-Zeta
Summary: The Taliver. They were bandits, and yet so much more. For a half score of years, they held Sacae in a choke hold of terror...
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Long have I worked on a fic that will not collapse on me, due to my lack of seeing things through? Yes...that was the problem. I have achieved a stable fic, and…uhh…here it is?

Disclaimer: I don't own…Well, look at what category it's in. That should answer your question…

_/This is thinking. Most likely not going to really happen, but I may need it once I get a-writing. /_

"_This is odd speaking, perhaps empowered voice, whatever."_

"**A very loud or simply scary voice. Italics probably mean scary too."**

_Darkness…Night brings immense amounts of it, choking your eyes of precious sight, to some that can be as precious as the very air you breathe. To some, night and darkness brings terror, the dark itself, or simply what lays inside those shadowy cloaks, softer than velvet, yet colder than artic ice…_

_Then there are those who live and breathe those shadows, that darkness, learn to live it, learn what each shadow cast means, and even when all is bathed in that choking shadow, see as if it was noon, and maneuver through even a thick forest as if it was just a simple, wide hallway._

_This was the clouded that night, everlasting darkness, causing the great plains of Sacae to look like a sea of tall grass, bathed in moonlight, with pools of impregnable darkness at your feet._

_That was what clouded that day, that night. This was a night that something more vicious than war, more disturbing than mutilation, more disgusting than rape occurred…it was an event that scarred a beautiful country with blood, blood that once drunk, could not help but thirst for more._

_It was a massacre, the massacre of the Sacaen Tribe, the Plainstriders. Moreover, while it was the first, it was most certainly not the last…and despite being the start of perhaps one of the most disturbing events in history, it has never been written in history texts. It had never been documented, never been spoke of. It was an isolated tribe, not very well known._

_This made it the perfect target…the perfect start…this marked the rise of what would soon be a one of the most feared groups in all of Sacae…_

_The Taliver would rise this night, and soon, all would quail in fear at their bloodlust._

…_Yet…_

…_I speak of this as if it was about to happen…_

…_That is a foolish lie…_

…_A foolish hope…_

…_Hope that you could stop this from happening…_

…_But you cannot…_

…_Let me show you…_

_Fifty Miles from the Sacaen-Bernese Border,_

_Year, Unknown_

_Month: March_

_Day: Unknown_

_Time: 3:00 am, Hour of the Devil_

_A cautious nose sniffed the air. Ah, yes, the fires were burning low. Light reflected of oddly pearly teeth, the teeth quickly faded out of sight, replaced by a bloodthirsty smirk._

"_Only a few are awake, alert sentries…Sacaen's aren't foolish and placate like the Lycians." The voice was subdued, and came out like a hiss. A nearby head nodded, no faces could be made out in this darkness._

"_I know. Still, even the greatest sentry cannot see that which is darker than night." There was no response to this statement; the man had not expected one. It was not because he extremely tall, or because of his imposing voice. It was because of his command, the aura of pure confidence, knowledge, and ruthlessness that rolled off the man like the shadow surrounding them._

_Some of the dark patches around him nodded. The man put a hand to his chin, rubbing it thoughtfully. "We could easily burn them all down with their gers, but that would damage the goods…" The men around nodded, several grinning viciously, fingering sharpened axe blades in anticipation._

_Their was the faint sound of a book cracking open, and then with a light snap, it closed. "Alright, we've go about 50 men, there are over 70 men and women to that tribe, perhaps 30 or 40 children. I know everyone has a bow, so here is what we do. I want you split into groups of 4…"_

_Soon, the plan was done. Small groups of fighters surrounded the portable Sacaen village, bows drawn. There were perhaps 12 sentries, several old, several young, but at least two were smoking out of pipes, their eyes thoughtful._

_Their was a paused, an in a moment of quiet whistling, 12 men, five women fell dead. It was a sacrifice that had to be made; they were doing chores about the quiet village, and could not be let alive to sound the alarm. As they stalked closer to the dying fires of the village, the men were revealed for what they were. Bandits, men in sometimes-tattered clothing, dirty, but outfitted with surprisingly good gear and armor. Just as strangely, they had good teeth, a bit surprising._

_The man who had commanded the host strode into the center of the camp, his dark robe keeping all but a long brown beard from view. The beard was about a foot long, and not altogether remarkable. No words were spoken, save a quiet chant from the tall commander as the bandits went to work on slaughtering the entire village. It did not take long for someone to screw up, and soon the sounds of combat, women screaming, and battle shouts to reach the tall man's ears. It did not affect him as he stood in front of the fire, quietly chanting._

"_Nosferatu…" Was the final word chanted, and he extended his hands to the sky. His robe's hood flew back, revealing long, matted brown hair, and deeply lined eyes. His face looked like it was once handsome, but the deep lines, and dead madness that danced in those milky green eyes took any of that away._

_The pillar of dark energy that emerged from the fire did not fly very high, perhaps 20 feet, before extending out, lashing out across the village. Several Sacaen warriors found themselves drained of life as runic symbols exploded across them. Some died; some were stunned and drained, as a bandit would then cut him down._

_The Shaman himself was simply staring madly into the sky as the lifes energies he had taken replenished the energy he had expended to cast the massive spell, and he began to laugh, a hideous, insane laugh, the seemed to inspire the bandits, and cause icy balls of terror to enter the Sacaens stomachs._

_As the last man was cut down, the women and children rounded up to sell into slavery, the man bent down, and drew a finger through the slick blood covering the hard Sacaen ground. "Let this be a warning to all of Sacae! The Taliver have risen, and we are invincible!" The cry, "TALIVER! TALIVER!" was picked up by all the bandits, and it only made the Sacaen women and children felt the reality of their situation increase._

This was the start of the Taliver, but just the start. I shall tell you more of the story later…but for now, I am tired, and must sleep. It was…trying…to tell you that story. It was, shall I say, difficult to recall.

And once you begin to recall something such as that, you begin to remember all of it. And it is a very bloody, disturbing tale…


	2. Chapter 2

What drove me…what drove me to such ends are something far beyond someone's understanding. Why? How? Those questions they ask me. It is simple, but they are too simple minded to understand. Everyone is different, and so to are his or her minds. Thus, they react differently as well.

One man loses his family to a murderer…he seeks revenge, with his own two hands.

Another man loses his family to a murderer…he allows the police to take care of it, and grieves.

Something others do not understand, is that when you have the power to do something, to change it, whole new possibilities enter your mind. Once you have tasted what you can do with such power…you cannot turn back. From that point on, the choices haunt you, whether you take them or not.

Unlike some fools, I took them. And to this day, and for the many more ahead of me, I shall continue to take them. When I was confronted with the chance of more power, more choices, more challenges, I took it. With a terrible swoop of terror, I took what was rightfully mine.

Challenge, that was what truly drove me. I took my chances, using the lives of thousands of innocents to grant me more power, to give me more paths. Good or evil, or some area inbetween, all those avenues were open to me. All delectable, beautiful choices, that grew as my power did. And you know what…evil brought me power so much quicker.

That was my choice.

_-Excerpt from the journal of Malericias Zalastinius, Lord of the Taliver._

Canas noted the excerpt in the tome he was reading, there were many of them actually. According to the writer of the tome, Malericias had been a shaman of exponential power. He had wielded the Elder Magics in ways that earned them the name, 'Dark Magic'. In fact, it was widely believed that Malericias was some kind of Vampire, due to his fondness of the Nosferatu spell. While Canas was a little disturbed by his misuse of the Arcane Arts, he had to respect the mans sheer genius.

The way Malericias could manipulate magic, form spells, and wield his power was with the utmost control and precision. He was able to use mass forms of spells, and to make minor changes in them in ways that made them many times more effective. His supposed 'Vampirism', came from his way to use the Nosferatu spell to more effect through touch. And, Canas supposed, from his habit of drinking the blood of his enemies.

Yes, Malericias was insane, but he was also the most powerful Shaman of his time. The Taliver had started as average, blundering bandits. He had whipped them into Legionnaire quality, and through strict discipline, and at the same moment the entire lack of it, the Taliver had risen in power, to a drastic degree. Sacae had been hopelessly lost as their powerful Nomads and sturdy people fell under the onslaught, by a band that numbered less than two hundred.

Etrucia acknowledged his genius, although they criticized his dependence on magic. Many of Malericias's strategies involved the use of his magic in various ways. Yet, that was one of the reasons he was so effective. He used his magic to make his enemies especially susceptible to his bandit lackeys.

Shifting his Monocle, Canas leafed through the pages, searching for a specific part of the complex spell, Flux. Flux was one of the most basic spells used in the Elder Arts, to deal damage to an enemy. That fact that it took an entire book to fully explain truly spoke of its complexity. Such was the reason most spell-casters brought the tomb in question with them. It was too difficult to use without a quick way to recall certain information. Of course, this tome was not a Flux tome, it was a book of arcane theory that was essential to all spell-casters. This one was more advanced and had been extremely difficult to find.

After all, a spell is impossible to cast without exact knowledge of what you are doing. The spell doesn't care what you're shouting, or what your fingers are doing. What matters is what you're thinking. The "finger wiggling" and the chanting are simply ways to help you cast, they help you control a spell.

Canas would never expect anyone who hadn't studied the for years to truly understand- thats what made magic so difficult and time-consuming to learn. As with anything else, however, once you had the basics down it was easy to build a solid base and learn many spells. At a certain point, spells became a matter of power.

Aha! Canas found for what he was searching for. It was possible to draw out an arcane circle that was infused with ones magical energy (or not) and could be used to cast a spell without the full 'finger wiggling' or chant, and with a much quicker cast. By simply infusing ones energy into the circle, the spell would be cast, due to how the circle was constructed. In a sense it fooled the magic by moved in such a way that it mimicked the brains paths and synapses, bending the energy into the spell that is desired. The circle then cast the spell within the circle itself. Such things were quite adjustable, useful, but extremely time consuming to make. Not only that, but a small mistake could cause spell failure, among other things. It wasn't uncommon for the circle to simply explode, shooting the ground to pieces, with the occasionally magical backlash on the one who implanted the magical energy.

Hence, circles were rarely used, and generally preset. On a side note, Canas remembered that Malericias was known for making the circles on large stone or metal disks, and using some unknown method to shrink them. Imagine a portable fireball, or a ball of shadowy energy that acted similar to electricity.

Canas had sought this, as his next area of study was such circles, they greatly interested him. Malericias had inspired him in this sense; he wanted to re-create these portable spells. At the very least, he wanted to learn to make these and design his own. To truly understand their function. It was his desire to one day have his own tower, and defenses had to be in place to have a true magicians tower. That, and Canas loved learning for the sake of learning itself.

He noticed another Malericias excerpt, and arched an eyebrow. However, this time, the picture of the arcane circle on the page glowed, if only for a brief moment, Canas did not notice this, so engrossed int he excerpt. It took up twelve pages, to Canas it was short and concise.

_These people thought they could stand up to him. What fools, a malicious grin lit up across his face as his hand began to move uncontrollably, making the motions of slowly squeezing a heart. So, these Kutolah thought they had the strength to stand up to them? Once they were crushed, the Kutolah and all of Sacae would know who was truly master of the planes…_

_The Taliver._

_Plans had to be made, under normal conditions. As luck would not like to have it, the insidious Leader of the Taliver could concoct them on the spot, when the need arose. Perhaps not as brilliant, but his casualties were minimal, and there's were not. Is that not victory enough?_

"My loyal soldiers, prepare to move out. In a week's time, the hearts of the Kutolah shall lay in our hands, their woman in our beds, and their children as our servants. What we do not keep shall be food for the vultures!" _The inhumanly deep, charismatic, and commanding cry of the Shaman echoed throughout the mountain stronghold of the Taliver. His home, which resided in the top tier of the many tiers of the Taliver's mountain home was in the perfect spot to echo throughout the valley hidden deep within the Bernese mountains. Leader could never fully explain it; it was so perfect that a tiny smear of the goodness left inside him refused to let him taint it. Refused to let him do anything to it…the Taliver lived inside natural caves covered by fitted woof and thick canvas…but none of it was from this valley. They farmed the ground, but that was it._

_The Taliver, whom could hear the booming, magically enhanced call from even miles from the valley, cheered with a bloodthirsty vibe running through all their call. The voice was carried on the wind, and it was said that this call was whispered throughout all of Sacae, as well as the bloodthirsty cheers._

_Within a week, the Kutolah tribe had been completely wiped off of the face of the earth. The tribe had in truth been reduced to a tenth of their former numbers, and had scattered to the four winds. Within a month, Sacae's greatest tribes had all been destroyed, save the Lorca. The Lorca was one of the few tribes that held magic, the Druids. Druids were nature bound wielders of magic, often enough Shamans ended up following that course in search of the meaning of life, and other such nonsense. The Druids of the Lorca were able to counter Leaders magic, to his complete hate._

_However, the Leader was nothing if not intelligent, and was forced to leave them alone. His choking hold would close around them soon enough…_

Canas blinked, and rubbed his eyes. He felt as if he had just waken from a dream, but a quick check of the window revealed that it was still midday, and no noticeable amount of time had passed. Why did he recall small bits of some odd event? He could only remember the smallest of shreds and fragments, but from what he could piece together it involved mountains and Sacae… which was odd, since Sacae was a plane.

Adjusting his monocle, Canas resigned himself to lacking any understanding of what just happened, and returned to his studies. His eyes studied the page he was on, and blinked. Was there not another excerpt from Malericias here? All there was one the page was an arcane circle, which had a lengthy description below it. It was extremely simple, it simply glowed. In essences it was like a torch staff, but in a rune, thus could be placed on anything. Sword, egg, bread, etc. Canas chuckled at the mischief he could have with this, although he was far too kind to do something like that.

Hearing the semi-familiar sounds of battle outside battlecries, ringing swords and other such things, Canas closed the tome and peered outside. It seemed that old Cap'n Fargus was testing another group, and he had overheard in the Tavern this morning that they wanted to go to the Dreaded Isles, an eternally mist-bound set of islands. The largest isle was undoubtably where they wished to go, that is where all the ruins were.

Canas could not resist his thirst for knowledge, and quickly nabbed a tome and ran to go help them. As he left, he glanced at the with all the Malericias Excerpts in them, reading it as he darted towards the red-head, he appeared to be a noble, almost assuredly Pheraen.

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Past, Present, Future, I'm never going to be consistent with them! What was the runes pulse, why cant Canas remember, what did Malericias do to the Sacaens!?! The Kutolah destroyed, are you sure? Lorca survived, didn't the Taliver destroy them? What am I not telling you, what has yet to be revealed, what is in plain sight but cleverly disguised!?!?!?

Find out ont he next episode, of Fire Emblem Z! Woocha!

I'm starting a contest, hoping this may somehow get more reviewers. Whoever wins gets a coolio prize.

They can make their own OC!!!YAY!!!

heres the contest- Malericias is not only a shaman, he has evolved beyond normal elder magics to some darker, sinister type that one might say is entirely his own, born from his own twisted soul. So, make a spell! Give a nice description, appearance, casting time, what kind of damage (is it super long range, ignore resitance, suck health, damage a stat, etc), weaknesses and strengths, and what rank it is.

Understand, a good E-rank is just as likely to win as a good S-rank. I don't want a POWERFUL spell, I want a GOOD one.


End file.
